My legs hit the edge of the bed, and I dropped back, hauling Nate with me, not letting him go for a second. The mattress caught us, springs groaning under our combined weight, and I sprawled out, cock standing thick and swollen against my belly, slick with his need.
Nate straddled me, eyes wild, lips swollen, skin hot and desperate for more. My hands gripped his hips, guiding him up, making him hover, making him look down and see how big I was—how ready, how hungry, how fucking feral I’d become for him.
“Come on, baby,” I growled, voice nearly gone. “Show me. Show me you can take it. Show me who you belong to.”
Nate’s hands braced on my chest, legs spread wide as he lined himself up, the tip of my cock nudging his hole, still stretched, still leaking with spit and lube and the last traces of my fingers. He sank down slow, inch by thick inch, shivering and cursing, taking it all, stretching himself wider than ever.
The pressure, the heat, the obscene tightness around my cock sent my head spinning. I could feel myself swelling inside him, the urge to breed, to claim, to fill him until nothing else existed.My hands roamed over his thighs, up his waist, gripping hard enough to bruise, pulling him down until he was fully seated, my cock buried to the root.
“Look at us,” I rasped, voice full of awe and possession. “You’re so fucking beautiful. You were made for this, Nate. Made to ride me, to take every drop I have, to let me ruin you.”
He started to move—slow at first, rocking his hips, grinding down, milking every inch of me. The friction was maddening, the drag of his body squeezing me tighter, hotter, hungrier than I’d ever known. Each bounce made his hole flutter, gripping, clinging, pulling me deeper, making my cock throb and swell inside him.
Nails raked down my abs, marking me back, claiming me as much as I claimed him. Our eyes met in the mirror above the headboard, both of us seeing ourselves wrecked, desperate, lost to the need to be closer, to own, to be owned.
“Take it all, baby,” I ordered, voice shaking. “Show me how deep you want it. Show me how much you can handle.”
Nate braced his hands on my chest and fucked down harder, faster, muscles straining, sweat running in rivulets down his neck. My cock thickened, pulsing, stretching him further, filling him with every frantic thrust. He took it all, hips grinding, his own cock bobbing between us, leaking, untouched, as if the only thing that mattered was being split open, bred, claimed.
Every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through my whole body, the bed rocking, sheets twisting under us, air thick with the smell of sex and sweat and something raw, animal, and eternal. I flexed, met his rhythm, fucked up into him, making him gasp, making him sob for more.
“Fuck—Evan, you’re—so deep—so fucking thick—” Nate’s words were broken, every syllable torn from him by the fullness, the stretch, the possession. “I can feel you growing inside me. I can feel you everywhere—never want it to stop?—”
My hands gripped his waist, controlling him, forcing him to bounce, to take everything, to ride until my balls slapped against his ass, until the sound of our bodies together drowned out everything else. Each time I swelled, his hole gripped me tighter, milking me, begging for my cum, begging to be filled.
“Gonna breed you, baby. Gonna make you drip with me for days. Gonna make you mine—every inch, every fucking drop.”
The need built fast, wild, unstoppable. My balls drew up, cock swollen and twitching, the urge to fill him, to mark him, to leave something behind that would never wash away.
My breath came out in ragged gasps. Nate rode me harder, crying out, nails digging deep, sweat and tears mixing on his cheeks. Every muscle in my body went taut, my hips lifting off the bed, driving up into him, every thrust deeper, every pulse stronger.
My release hit hard, violent, a growl tearing from my chest as I shot deep inside him, filling him, flooding him, cock jerking and swelling even more as I emptied everything I had into his body. Nate gasped, shuddered, hands clutching me, hole milking every drop, not letting a single bit escape.
My hands gripped his hips, refusing to let him go, needing every second of connection. Even as my orgasm faded, cock still buried inside him, I could feel the tight, obscene squeeze of his hole around me, refusing to release even a drop.
Nate slumped forward, arms shaking, face pressed to my chest, breath coming in sharp, broken pants. Sweat dripped down his spine, tracing the lines of muscle I’d worshipped with my mouth. Slowly, I dragged my hands up his back, tracing every ridge and dip, grounding us both.
“Up,” I murmured, voice shot and guttural. “On all fours. Let me see.”
He obeyed, spent but trusting, crawling forward until he faced the mirror, body stretched out and trembling, ass raisedfor me like a prayer. My hands were gentle as I cupped his cheeks, thumbs spreading him open, and my cock twitched at the sight—my cum leaking out, slick and shiny, painting him filthy and claimed.
“Look,” I whispered against his ear, letting him see the mess, the proof of what we’d done. “Look at how well you took me. Look at how perfect you are.”
The sight drove something wild through my chest, hunger still burning even as my body ached with release. Bending close, I pressed a kiss to the small of his back, tongue flicking out to lap up a bead of cum that dripped down his thigh. I chased it, licking, cleaning, making sure none of it went to waste.
My tongue moved higher, tracing his crack, licking around the rim, gathering everything I’d spilled. I spat into my palm, slicked his hole, pushed a finger in just to feel the heat, the wetness, the raw evidence of what we’d made together. Nate’s head dropped, forehead pressing to the mattress, moaning as I worked him open again, savoring every sound, every quiver.
“Don’t stop,” he begged, voice muffled, desperate. “Need you—need to feel you, need you to take everything?—”
Switching angles, I buried my face between his cheeks, tongue plunging in, licking and sucking, making a filthy mess of him all over again. Every taste of myself on his skin made my cock pulse with aftershocks, need stirring again in my belly, wanting to own every part of him.
Once I’d cleaned him, satisfied that every drop was gone, I pushed him over onto his back, body still shaking, legs falling open for me. Crawling up his body, I grabbed his cock, thick and leaking, hard in my palm. My lips wrapped around him, sucking deep, taking him to the base, letting spit and precome run down my chin.
He sobbed for me, hands fisting the sheets, hips rolling up to meet my mouth. I worshipped him—tongue swirling the head,cheeks hollowing, swallowing him deeper, rough and hungry, never letting up. My free hand slipped to his balls, squeezing, rolling, then lower, thumb circling his slick rim as I sucked him harder, deeper, rougher.
“Fuck, Evan—gonna—can’t—please?—”
I hummed around his cock, urging him on, mouth relentless, determined to wring every drop from him. His whole body arched, every muscle straining, face twisted in bliss as I swallowed him whole, letting him come deep in my throat, not stopping, not pulling back.
